


down south window lounge

by floatingsumaru



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Cock Piercing, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 04:17:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11154078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floatingsumaru/pseuds/floatingsumaru
Summary: “You need to relax,” Iwaizumi mouths against his cheek.“I have four finals due tomorrow.” Oikawa’s voice is strained. “Don’t you, don’t youdaretell me to relax.”Iwaizumi is a nude model. Oikawa is an art student. Nobody really talks about art or school at all.





	down south window lounge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chiharu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiharu/gifts).



> Happy SASO2017, I'm back at it again. This is for my beautiful SASO wife, who asked, and so I give, even though what is basic fucky even. Thanks for signing up with me again and for holding my minty paw while I cry throughout this entire summer instead of living my beautiful life.

There’s always a little bit of clay that lines Oikawa’s short, blunt nails, stubborn despite the fastidious scrubbing after each studio class.

 

“My bad,” Oikawa pants into the hot air between them. His fingers are curled desperately tight around Iwaizumi’s upper arms, leaving faint white clay streaks all over Iwaizumi’s sun gold model skin. It’s probably white clay. Oikawa has already come once, from two of Iwaizumi’s large fingers pressing insistent and hot inside him, right there, _just right there_ , thumb smoothing almost reverently against the rim. Iwaizumi had spent a nice while down there with his nice large hands and his nice eager tongue. He always did like the view framed by the spread of Oikawa’s impossibly long legs.  

 

“You need to relax,” Iwaizumi mouths against his cheek. There’s a smattering of black ink that dots underneath Oikawa’s chin, and Iwaizumi ducks his head to lick at them, at the drops of sweat that collect there against the elegant line of Oikawa’s jaw, and Oikawa squirms, too spent and sensitive under Iwaizumi’s hands like this. Oikawa is on his back still bent almost double on the studio work table, sweat and lube tracking wet down the back of his thighs, and his skin prickles electric and greedy. His lungs still feel too tight. He’s still half hard and he feels like he might break.

 

“I have four finals due tomorrow.” Oikawa’s voice is strained. His fingers are slipping down Iwaizumi’s arms as Iwaizumi starts to push his thighs further apart, and Oikawa tries not to tense up as he’s spread to his limit. His muscles are straining, and he’s now straining too, open and desperate again. “Don’t you, don’t you _dare_ tell me to relax.”

 

“Suit yourself,” Iwaizumi grunts, instead. It’s Iwaizumi’s birthday and he knows that Oikawa had made time for this. Oikawa has a meticulously colourblocked planner for his entire life and Iwaizumi is pretty sure there was even a glittery sticker of a mint green heart and an eggplant on this very date.

 

Iwaizumi has been hard for a long while now and the sight of Oikawa spread so willing and soft under him, flushed pink from his cheeks right down to the wet, shining mess streaking across the tanned skin of his stomach, is almost enough to make Iwaizumi want to just push inside him right then, watch Oikawa stretch hot and tight around his cock as he does that stupid thing he does, biting down on his bottom lip, as if that kept the frantic, pleasured noises from falling out of Oikawa’s mouth at all.

 

“Fuck,” Iwaizumi mutters, as his fingers gripping tight into the meat of Oikawa’s thighs draws from Oikawa that very same long, choked sound. Iwaizumi dares to look up, doesn't quite dare to make eye contact, but he still sees Oikawa smiling that small pleased smile, _that bastard, he knows, that was, that was--_ but Oikawa’s legs are so long, and he’s so hot like this. “Fuck, _fuck_. I’m sorry. Fuck you. It’s going to be cold. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t hurt yourself there,” Oikawa laughs, but it's thin and gasping, and Iwaizumi can feel Oikawa’s cock now fully hard again and dripping between them. Everything feels so hot and close like this, _Oikawa_ is so hot and close and gorgeous like this, looking at him with half-lidded eyes and sweaty bangs plastered against his flushed skin and a mouth open just barely, pink tongue pressing against his lower teeth and Iwaizumi knows exactly how it tastes in his own mouth, and Iwaizumi groans as he desperately rubs his cock against Oikawa’s thigh, anything, _anything_ , and he mutters a sorry again as the cold metal of his cock piercings brushes against Oikawa’s skin.

 

“Just,” Oikawa breathes as he tries to wrap his legs around Iwaizumi to bring him even closer but Iwaizumi is braced so firmly against his legs that Oikawa can only shiver with every pass of the metal piercing against his thighs, but he wants. He wants. “ _Just_.”

 

Iwaizumi is big, he’s so big, Oikawa knew this the moment their eyes had met during the live figure drawing class, or rather Oikawa’s eyes had met the gleaming metal pierced tip of Iwaizumi’s cock as Iwaizumi sat waiting to be sketched, and then Iwaizumi had looked vaguely alarmed as Oikawa had snapped the charcoal gripped in his hand clean in half.

 

“Just don’t break my dick, okay,” Iwaizumi gasps, as if he knows exactly what Oikawa’s thinking about. He probably does. Iwaizumi’s cock is pressed right up along Oikawa’s slick thigh and he can’t stop himself from rutting against it, smearing wet and leaking all over the warm skin.

 

Oikawa is leaning back on his arms, he’s uncurling his long toned legs and taking Iwaizumi’s cock between the meat of his thighs, and there’s something about his sharp, sweet smile that crushes everything inside Iwaizumi into dust. “Oh, you _wish_ I’d break your dick.”

 

Iwaizumi is nothing between these legs, Iwaizumi is nothing under that smile, and that low voice, and he comes, teeth grit around the _Tooru_ he doesn’t want to give up just quite yet, fingers gripping hard enough to bruise the outside of Oikawa’s thighs.

 

“Let’s go for actual third base next time, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says lazily as he starts to finger himself. Iwaizumi is too tired to even be embarrassed.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday, Iwaizumi Hajime.
> 
> Also, please read Miyu's [wonderful dick piercing meet-cute](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11157513) that is basically the lead-up to this. They even talk about art and school a little!


End file.
